


blood on his skin dripping with sin

by Kalika999 (kalika_999), winter_angst



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Cabins, Cannibalism, Cooking, M/M, Minor Sexual Content, Psychopaths In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/Kalika999, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst
Summary: By sheer coincidence after his car runs out of gas Brock ends up drawn into Jack’s deliciously dark and devious world (and of course deeply in love).
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	blood on his skin dripping with sin

**Author's Note:**

> Our contribution to RumRollins Week - Winter Fun 
> 
> As usual the wonderful art was done by the equally wonderful Kalika999 who I adore and cherish for her patience with me  
> writing this fic as well as he willingness to bounce ideas back and forth. Love ya girl! ❤️❤️❤️

Brock heaved a small content sigh as he thumbed through the recipe book. “What are you in the mood for?” 

Jack leaned back against the counter, bringing his beer to his lips. Blood was splattered from his collarbone to his hairline, a claw mark gracing his right cheek. Brock frowned, eyes flickering to the freezer door. If only he could slaughter dinner again, he would. 

“I’m not picky.”

Brock pushed up from the chair, leaving the book lying open. He kissed the wound, the irony tang of blood seeping to his tongue. Jack set the bottle aside with a sharp clink of glass against marble and gripped Brock’s hips possessively. A smirk slipped across Brock’s face, mouth watering at all the meal prospects ahead of him and now, before him. He worked his thigh against Jack’s cock and trailed his tongue through the blood on his skin. 

Brock never thought he would end up here, in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a man he loved more than life itself, dining on delectable items the rest of the world would be horrified at. Jack was unapologetic for his preferences, his eyes always so hungry when he roamed Brock’s body in bed or when they stood beneath the shower spout letting blood rinse from their skin. 

“How about I cook for you tonight,” Brock’s lips ghosted Jack’s cheek, the sharp bite of stubble bringing a gorgeous blood blush to his lips. “You start packing up the meat.”

A few months ago Brock’s culinary knowledge was limited to frozen meals and baking chicken. Jack had opened his world in a way he never could have imagined, never could have even dreamed of — though he was living a dream now. 

A broken down car, a long cold trek through the wilderness only to happen upon this cabin where a delightful monster lurked inside. Brock remembered his fear, how Jack didn’t walk...he prowled like the apex predator he was. But as quickly as Jack instilled that fear in Brock, he took it away, inviting him into the warm structure, resting thick blankets on his shoulders and spooning a thick meaty stew into a bowl for him to eat. 

Brock’s first taste of human flesh and he hadn’t even known it. Not for the two weeks he stayed with Jack, riding out the storm and falling wildly and blindly in love. The bloody chopping block became a second thought, something to be disregarded because Jack was like no one he’d ever met before. Capable and clever, sweet and seductive, mysterious and munificent. Brock had never known a man like Jack and the surprises never stopped coming, not when Brock dared journey to the shed to surprise Jack with a dinner made and found a body hanging, freshly killed with blood stained splotches from countless before them and not when Jack didn’t bother to deny why the bodies were kept in the cold storage area.

A sane man would have ran in the opposite direction but Brock’s Nonna once said there was no logic is love and he figured this was a shining example of such. 

Jack nipped at his earlobe, playful and teasing. 

“Alright.”

Jack watched Brock with hooded eyes that made him want to drag Jack to their bed, the four poster beauty that Jack hand carved. The cabin door unlatched, letting a cold blast of blustery winter wind into the warm cabin, the fresh air biting sharply at Brock’s skin before Jack swung it shut. The smell of cold winter air faded beneath that of wood stove warmth and fresh blood — the smell of home. 

Brock assessed the cut Jack had left him, a perfect loin with warm blood pooling on the table that Jack had also crafted. Jack was as good with his hands as he was at working over Brock’s body during those heated evenings basking in the warmth of the fire or between soft flannel sheets in the dead of the night or early morning. He was an equally talented killer, butcher and chef — typically in that order. While Brock was more of Jack’s budding protege, he was growing increasingly skilled cooking with various cuts and Jack was teaching him to butcher bodies as well. 

To be trusted with preparing their first meal with fresh meat was an honor Brock did not take lightly. He thumbed through every recipe, smiling at the smudged dried thumbprints of rusted red that Jack often left behind when he was lost deep in his cannibalistic culinary world. And what a delicious world it was. Brock could never go back to the basics after eating such savory tender dishes. 

After careful consideration Brock settled on a simple roast, something that would fill the cabin with the warm, sweet smell of meat and gave Brock ample time to enjoy Jack’s presence, to ride him slowly in front of the flickering flames with blood dried on his pale skin, contrasting sharply with the freckles spread out on his flesh. 

The cut didn’t need much prep, a flaying knife separated the stretchy skin that was too fragile and papery to crisp properly in the oven. Brock tossed the skin to the side, humming under his breath as he prepared a rub. The roast was sizzling merrily on a cast iron skillet with fat and a few sprigs of dried rosemary from their little herb garden out back when Jack came back in. 

Brock had to wait until the roast was resting on a bed of potatoes, onions and carrots to let himself get distracted but the dried blood creeping up to Jack’s elbows and on his front had all of Brock’s primal urges telling him to pounce. Jack’s nostrils flared as he took a deep sniff of the air, eyes darting to Brock and then to the stove top before his thin lips twitched upwards into a smile. Brock released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the rush of knowing he’d done well, that he’d pleased Jack was all consuming. It left him feeling a bit heady and weak in the knees. 

Jack took a few steps towards him, light on his feet despite his stature, and wrapped his arms around Brock in a tight constricting hold. There was a beat of wariness that was immediately smothered by the kisses peppered on his face. 

“Get off’a me, ya big dork,” Brock gave him a playful push and Jack did pull away, but only to wrap an arm around Brock’s waist while he ladeled some melted fat over the glistening roast. 

“Smells real good, baby.” Jack’s nose fit into the crook of Brock’s shoulder and neck. “Food smells nice too.”

“Shuddap,” Brock mumbled, a blush dusting his cheeks. “It’s our third winter together, ya know.”

“I know. I made you something.” Jack reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a piece of bone, carved into a makeshift worry stone. 

“It’s pretty.” There was a lump in Brock’s throat as he was overtaken by how much he loved Jack. “It’s real pretty. Thank you, Jack. I didn’t get you anything…” 

“You being here is more than I could’ve asked for.” Jack’s green eyes burned into him, a searing promise of forever. “Knew when I saw you that you were just too damn cute to eat.”

Brock was happy to be here, doted on by a sinister yet sweet man who made every day better than the last.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [RumRollins Week 2019](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565687) by [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999), [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst)




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